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Rated: E · Short Story · Psychology · #1785265
A short story on the subject of eating disorders.
         The tap drip, drip, dripped as the last drops of sunlight simmered over the hill and through the window. Mum tap, tap, tapped her dainty nails on the old oak of the kitchen table, and stared me down.
         'Katie, I'm waiting.' She could wait forever for all I cared. Who did she think she was anyway? Just because you open your legs to pop out a baby and some goo, it doesn't make you grand high ruler of everything. I was right on this one, I knew it. I tipped my head and picked at a scraggy cuticle.
         'Katie.' Not listening. I bit my tongue against the natural obedience of answering. Not this time. I nibbled at my nail. So annoying.
         'Katie.' Mum put her hand on my arm, 'It's because I care. Look at Jane.' I could hear the tears choking her voice. Jane. That's what this was about? Who were they kidding? I would never be like Jane; All whizened and dour. I was the good sister, the happy sister, the fat sister. I could never reach her level of self-control anyway. It was years before anyone found out and by then... I would never be like Jane.
         'Do you miss her?' She sniffed. My head sprung up,
         'Of course I miss her!' Well done, vow of silence broken. I could always cut it... Where did I put my nail scissors?
         'Is that what this is about? Jane? It won't bring her back Katie. I can't lose you too, I just...' She folded her head in her hands, spluttering, 'I can't lose you. Don't leave me.'
         My arms were around her then, clutching her as if holding her pieces together. Our ebony hair fell together and you couldn't see where we both began and ended.
                   The tap drip, drip, dripped as the last drops of sunlight simmered over the hill and through the window. But Mum didn't tap or huff or sigh, or even keep her eyes pointed on me like a crow and a beetle. She just sat, sniffing back the last drops of sadness, looking out at the world as it went on, and I, with everything that I had, (maybe a bit more,) lifted my fork, stared it down, and ate.
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